


Goosebumps

by cityofsilver



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Recording
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityofsilver/pseuds/cityofsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan forgets to pay his heating bill. Sometimes Brendon is the mature one. He is definitely the mature one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goosebumps

 

They _do_ finish the record, finally, ultimately, eventually.

Despite not exerting them physically like touring would, the recording process leaves them tired and drained. It was a long haul to get it done before their (eventual) deadline and now it’s gone in to get mixed over the month of December.

The month of mixing means they’ve got time off, and Jon goes back to Chicago while Ryan, Brendon, Spencer head back to their houses in Summerlin to sleep for a few days, or a week. After spending hours on end in each other’s space for weeks and in a tiny recording studio, they welcome the break from each other, if not just from the strain of recording.

Brendon, however, was never good at being idle, and he fidgets around his house before Shane caves in and brings him out for smoothies.

He knows Spencer’s spending much-missed time with his girlfriend after a year of being preoccupied with the record, so he refrains from bugging him, but just barely.

Spencer does choose to call him after a few days, to check in and to remind Brendon not to drink coffee while he or Zack are not around to keep an eye on him. Brendon huffs and threatens to hang up.

He chats with Jon via webcam for an hour while they catch up (Jon insists that _really_ , Brendon, not that much has happened in the past _five days_ ) and when Jon asks how Spencer and Ryan are, he pouts and says that Ryan hasn’t talked to him at all.

Which is the truth; he hadn’t seen or talked to the older boy since they’d packed up their stuff from Palms, and it bothered him. He _missed_ Ryan.

So the next day he makes the ten minute drive to Ryan’s house (seriously, ten _minutes_ ) and knocks on the door. When it’s opened, Ryan standing there slightly bleary eyed and pale, with a hoodie on (what, Ryan wore _hoodies_ now?) and a questioning raise of eyebrows.

“Wow, you look _awesome_ , dude. What, were you partying all week or something?”

“Nice to see you too, asshole,” he bites back, but his voice is surprisingly weak and quieter than usual (which was a hard feat, with Ryan.)

“You okay Ross?” he does worry about him, despite what people say.

Ryan nods and rubs his hands up and down his crossed arms. “I’m fine, I think I have a chill or something. Are you coming in?”

Brendon nods and strolls languidly into the house, looking around and seeing evidence of Ryan not bothering to sleep in his own bedroom (blankets hapazardly thrown all over the couch), evidence of Ryan not cleaning up after himself (pizza boxes and cereal bowls piled on the coffee table) and evidence of Ryan _still_ writing (scrap pages and colorful guitars strewn around the room.) 

“ _Ryan_ ,” Brendon starts, exasperated, and for _once_ , he is the exasperated one. “What are you _doing_? You’re supposed to be relaxing! And hey, it’s fucking freezing in here.”

He looks down at the goosebumps on his arms. Vegas temperatures never drop too far, even in winter, but for people who are accustomed to the scorching sun for most of year, they usually feel the chill in winter. Which is why Brendon’s stupefied as to why he forgot to put on a jacket. But more importantly he’s stupefied as to why Ryan’s house is currently the same temperature as a stone dungeon.

“Why- why is your house so cold?” He narrows his gaze at Ryan.

Ryan, who’s been leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, just shrugs. “I guess I forgot to pay the gas bill, or something. I think they cut off the heating.”

Brendon blinks at him. “You _think_ they cut off the heating.”

Ryan pushes half his face into his hoodie, so the words come out muffled. “Well, yeah, I mean, all my showers have been cold, so…”

“Jesus, Ryan! Why am I not surprised you’ve got a fucking chill!” He waves his arms in the air dramatically. He hopes Ryan gets the idea of how much of an idiot he is.

Ryan’s still standing there, except now he’s looking a little bit sorrier for himself than he was before.

Brendon sighs, and then grabs Ryan’s key off the hook. “Ok, you’re coming home with me, where I have _warmth_ , Jesus.”

Ryan does protest, but it’s weak, and Brendon has him hustled out the door in a matter of minutes. Before he shuts the door behind them, he glances into the kitchen again, and he can see a pile of unopened mail stacked carelessly on the countertop.

Seriously. An _idiot._

+++

 

Brendon tugs Ryan down onto the couch and orders him not to move from there. He runs upstairs and grabs a pile of blankets from the airing cupboard, and hauls them downstairs.

“Here,” he says, and starts wrapping them one by one around Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan’s glaring at him, and he shrugs them loose. “Brendon, I’m not a _child,_ stop it, seriously-“

“If you’re child enough to forget to pay utility bills, you’re child enough for me to wrap you in blankets.”

Brendon’s not angry at him. He’s just worried, because Ryan is still sort of shivering and he’s way too skinny to have a healthy defence system. He might also just find it entertaining to wrap Ryan Ross up like a burrito.

Although watching Ryan attempt to retain some of his masculinity is entertaining enough as it is.

Once he’s got Ryan threatened and secured with blankets, he puts on the TV and snuggles up beside him. For extra body heat, and stuff.

And eventually Ryan stops acting like he doesn’t want to be there, and he leans closer to Brendon. Brendon notices that he’s stopped shivering, at least.

They munch on anything Brendon can find in the cupboard, which is a long list of artificial colours and sugar. As soon as it’s dark enough for them to consider it dinnertime, Brendon orders a pizza, and Ryan’s face almost looks a little brighter than earlier.

When they’ve eaten and decided on what franchise they wanted to marathon, (Harry Potter was the only one they both agreed on) Ryan has slumped further down into the couch and onto Brendon’s shoulder. Halfway through _The Chamber Of Secrets_ , Ryan sits up, as if he’s just remembered something. He lifts the blankets off one of his shoulders and puts them around Brendon’s too.

Brendon’s heart melts a tiny bit, but he only smirks up at Ryan. “Thanks Ross, I know if I get hypothermia you won’t look after me as well as I look after you.”

Ryan slaps his arm and puts his head back down on Brendon’s shoulder.

+++

After the third movie they both get tired, and they’re leaning so heavily to the side that they’re almost horizontal. If he could just move a bit-

Brendon shifts, and then he’s lying flat with his head on the armrest. Ryan gets the drift and pushes himself down until he’s lying in front of Brendon. Brendon can’t really see the screen but he doesn’t care, and he watches how his breath moves the hairs at the back of Ryan’s head.

He fusses over rearranging the blankets so they’re still on Ryan’s body, because he really doesn’t want him getting _sick_. And he needs to take full advantage of Ryan actually letting him look after him for once. He wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist for good measure.

After another hour, Ryan’s breathing is slower and Brendon suddenly needs to get up before Ryan wakes up and before it gets too weird. (And he’s way too comfortable here for it _not_ to be weird.)

He edges into a sitting position slowly, so he doesn’t wake Ryan. Grabbing a cushion from the other couch, he puts it under Ryan’s head carefully so he’ll be comfortable enough to sleep there for the night.

He straightens and moves to head to his bedroom, when he’s caught suddenly by long fingers wrapping around his wrist. He glances down, and Ryan is squinting up at him, the light from the TV (now with the credits rolling) casting a glow over his face.

“You don’t- I mean, you can- you can stay here, if you want.” It’s stuttered in a whisper, and he can’t see much of Ryan’s face in the dark but he imagines if the lights were on he’d able to see a flush over Ryan’s face right now.

“Sure, Ross, okay. You just like my warm body,” he teases, but he’s already climbing back onto the couch behind Ryan again. Ryan sighs, and Brendon breathes into his neck and sighs too. Carefully, he reaches back and grabs the remote from their feet and flicks the TV off, leaving the room in darkness besides the light coming in from the moon and streetlamps.

Several minutes pass and Brendon is positive that Ryan is asleep, if the deep, slow breathing is anything to go by. He edges forward a little bit and presses a kiss onto the back of his neck (something he wasn’t brave enough to do earlier) and almost jerks backwards when Ryan stirs.

Before he’s even able to think, Ryan has turned around in his arms. He’s looking up at him with eyes that are surprisingly honest; curious and filled with want.

And it’s invitation enough for Brendon, who moves forward again and kisses Ryan on the forehead. Then on his nose, and the corner of his mouth, slowly, and all the time waiting for Ryan to say something, or to jump off the couch and run.

He pulls back but Ryan’s still looking at him curiously (looking at his _mouth_ curiously.) He figures that he has the situation understood, so he finally presses his lips to his, slowly and softly. Ryan only takes a second to react and kiss back, and when he does, Brendon’s fingers tingle a bit and he feels like everything is suddenly like glass; precariously balanced and could break any minute.

When Ryan pulls back, though, he’s smiling that smile he usually does when he doesn’t know whether it’s okay to smile or not. So Brendon smiles back at him and he relaxes.

“Yeah, Ryan,” he says, quiet, because it feels like the right thing to say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ryan smiles once more and turns around, and pushes back into Brendon again.

He was _definitely_ sure that Ryan was asleep before he hears a mumble that’s slurred by drowsiness.

“I’ll pay the bills tomorrow, I guess.”

He hides his face in Ryan’s hair and whispers, “There’s no rush.”

Ryan’s body shakes in a silent laugh and Brendon just tightens his arms around him.

**Author's Note:**

> The guys told that story about Ryan 'forgetting' to pay his bills so much that I wondered why there wasn't more fic dealing with it. So I just wrote this out of self-indulgence, really. Thank you for reading! (Seriously!)


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